Many religions teach separation from the “world.” The world is considered fallen and corrupt, making life in the present often meaningless compared to the hereafter. In comparison with all of eternity, the importance of earthly life often becomes minimized. Many Christians feel alienated because of this, but they are expected and encouraged to feel separate.
“Do not love the world or the things in the world. If any one loves the world, love for the Father is not in him” (1 John 2:15–17).
Add to this the busy business of proselytizing and other Christian responsibilities, and it often becomes difficult to invest much time in many other pursuits that may be of interest to you or in any of life’s activities that take focus away from your Christian duty. At times, it is even difficult for believers to maximize the full potential of human relationships because they’re seldom really present in the here and now. Thus the saying: “Some people are so heavenly minded that they are no earthly good.”
Remaining separate means we are never really being present in the here and now, and it becomes a block, an inability to embrace our own and others’ experiences; ironically, it even prohibits our realization of the full potential of our spirituality, as related in the following story.
“Where shall I look for enlightenment?” the disciple asked.
“Here,” the elder said.
“When will it happen?” the disciple asked.
“It’s happening right now,” the elder answered.
“Then why don’t I experience it?” the disciple persisted.
“Because you do not look,” the elder said.
“But at what?” the disciple asked again.
“At anything your eyes light upon,” the elder answered.
“But must I look in a special kind of way?” the disciple went on.
“No. The ordinary way will do,” the elder said.
“But don’t I always look the ordinary way?” the disciple said.
“No, you don’t,” the elder said.
“But why ever not?” the disciple asked.
“Because to look you must be here. You’re mostly somewhere else,” the elder said.
—Joan Chittister
Being present and fully appreciating the here and now usually takes some education.
Leslie is a mother of three, the daughter of fundamentalists, and a former minister’s wife who is learning to appreciate simple pleasures: “I wasn’t taught an appreciation for nature — that God was in nature. It was more like, ‘This is an evil existence; it’ll be better by and by.’ So I wasn’t taught the beauty of a sunset or how it feels to walk through grass. That is a deep regret I have today. I don’t know how to experience the beauty of nature and to be as one with it.”
Participating in bettering the world, such as work on environmental, political, or social concerns, is often an even greater challenge.
In stark contrast to the repressive perspective of separation, many ancient beliefs use the image of the world and the universe as a windowpane: you see through the visible to the invisible. This understanding is evident in religions that regard the world as being infused with spirit and in the wisdom traditions that encourage believers to look for hints of God and spirituality in the world around them.
The following story captures the essence of this concept.
God decided to become visible to a king and a peasant and sent an angel to inform them of the blessed event. “O king,” the angel announced, “God has deigned to be revealed to you in whatever manner you wish. In what form do you want God to appear?”
Seated pompously on his throne and surrounded by awestruck subjects, the king royally proclaimed: “How else would I wish to see God, save in majesty and power? Show God to us in the full glory of power.”
God granted his wish and appeared as a bolt of lightening that instantly pulverized the king and his court. Nothing, not even a cinder, remained.
The angel then manifested herself to a peasant saying: “God deigns to be revealed to you in whatever manner you desire. How do you wish to see God?”
Scratching his head and puzzling a long while, the peasant finally said: “I am a poor man and not worthy to see God face-to-face. But if it is God’s will to be revealed to me, let it be in those things with which I am familiar. Let me see God in the earth I plough, the water I drink, and the food I eat. Let me see the presence of God in the faces of my family, neighbors, and—if God deems it as good for myself and others—even in my own reflection as well.” God granted the peasant his wish, and he lived a long and happy life.
—Anonymous 1st century story
According to this ancient concept, anything can become a disclosure of grace. We experience hints of the celestial in a lover’s embrace, a rainbow, a baby’s smile, a bird’s flight overhead, a friend’s forgiveness or the selfless service of a volunteer.
What an enlarging spiritual concept in contrast to the diminished and disempowered concept of separation from the world.
